Skip to main content

The Push Before the Praise


I stood in my backyard last week, staring at the Jacaranda tree that has stubbornly refused to bloom for three seasons. My neighbor, Mama Dineo, leaned over the fence with that knowing look. "Harold," she said, "the tree is not dead. It is digging. The roots are fighting through rock. The push is coming."

As she spoke, my phone buzzed. Another news alert.

The International Monetary Fund had just downgraded its global growth forecast. Fuel prices were surging. The Minister of Higher Education had announced that 3.4 million young South Africans are neither employed nor in education or training—a lived reality, he called it, not a statistic. Across the street, the Mkhatshwa family was packing their belongings. After eighteen months of job hunting, their eldest son, a cum laude engineering graduate, had finally surrendered to despair. "The system is leaking," the Minister had said, describing our education pipeline. "We are failing to move young people from learning into earning".

I looked at the Jacaranda. I looked at my nation. And I heard the whisper of Scripture:

"A woman, when she is in labor, has sorrow because her hour has come; but as soon as she has given birth to the child, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world." — John 16:21

That is when the Holy Spirit arrested me with this truth:

The battle's brink births the breakthrough.

🔍 A Matter of Definition

Let us define our terms with surgical precision.

The Push — not passive endurance, but agonic exertion; the intentional, costly application of faith against resistance. It is what a mother does when every nerve screams surrender but every instinct screams push. It is what a graduate does who sends the 487th job application. It is what a small business owner does when the sixth month of load-shedding has eaten the profit margin. It is what the Church does when the moral fabric of the nation frays and the world asks, "Where is your God now?"

The Praise — not mere emotional expression, but the outward manifestation of inward victory; the laughter that follows labor; the testimony that silences the accuser; the public acknowledgment that the One who promised is faithful.

Here is the argument I want to lodge in your spirit:

Premise 1: Every divine promise requires passage through a portal of pressure.

Premise 2: The pressure is not punishment but positioning.

Premise 3: Your breaking point is your birthing place.

Conclusion: Therefore, the push you are resisting is the very mechanism of your deliverance.

🏠 A Personal Story: The Midnight Contraction

Let me take you back to 2019. I was pastoring a small congregation in Soshanguve. We had seventeen members, a leaking roof, and a worship team whose drummer kept time to a rhythm only he could hear. I had been believing God for a building—not a palace, just a decent space where people could encounter Jesus without worrying about ceiling tiles falling on their heads.

Month after month, nothing. Offering baskets yielded coins that barely covered transport. I remember one Tuesday night, sitting in my car outside the empty church, crying so hard I could barely breathe. "Lord," I prayed, "I have pushed. I have preached. I have prayed until my knees calloused. Where is the breakthrough?"

In that moment, the Lord reminded me of Acts 16. Paul and Silas didn't sing after the earthquake. They sang in the prison. Their praise wasn't the result of deliverance; it was the mechanism of it.

I wiped my face, walked into that empty church, and began to worship. Not the polished, performance-oriented worship of Sunday mornings. Ugly worship. Wailing worship. The kind of praise that sounds more like a woman in transition than a choir in harmony.

Three weeks later, a businessman walked into our service—completely unannounced—and handed me the keys to a fully renovated hall in Block KK. "I don't know why I'm here," he said. "I just felt the Lord say, 'Give them the building.'"

I understood then what I am telling you now:

Your voice vexes darkness. One more prayer. One more push. The crown is crowning.

📰 The South African Context: Where We Are Now

Picture a nation in transition. On one hand, Eskom announced just yesterday that it expects no load-shedding through the winter months—a remarkable turnaround from the days when darkness was our daily bread. The utility has reduced its diesel burn by 27 billion rand and reported its first full-year profit in eight years. The system is expected to remain resilient even under high-stress conditions.

But let us not confuse seasonal relief with permanent resurrection.

The Standing Committee on Appropriations warns that load reduction—a euphemism for targeted blackouts in poor communities—remains a serious concern. Municipal debt to Eskom has climbed to approximately 110 billion rand. And while the lights may stay on in Sandton, the lights of hope are flickering in townships across this land.

The youth unemployment rate among 15-to-34-year-olds stands at 45.1 percent. Approximately 1.2 million young people enter the labour market each year, and most never secure a firm foothold. Nearly five million young South Africans are at risk of becoming economically invisible—a chilling phrase for a chilling reality. The unemployment rate for graduates with a bachelor's degree or higher is 10.3 percent. Let that sink in. People with degrees. People who did everything right. People who pushed through four years of varsity only to find the door locked on the other side.

And then there is the cancer of corruption. In February, an all-night prayer vigil was held for a suspended police minister, sparking fierce debate across social media. Evidence before a commission suggested that a special unit investigating political killings may have been disbanded to benefit criminal syndicates that infiltrated the police. Thousands have protested against what they see as the regulation of churches, even as allegations of abuse and exploitation within some religious movements continue to surface.

Bisho Mosa Sono of Grace Bible Church recently called for a faith-based response to these challenges, standing before more than 30,000 people in Soweto on Good Friday and declaring that prayer must be at the center of all efforts to deal with unemployment, crime, drug abuse, and corruption. "The blood of Jesus speaks better things," he said, "than the blood of Abel".

I agree. But let me add this prophetic edge:

Prayer without push is presumption. Faith without force is fantasy.

⚔️ Theological Analysis: Why the Push Is Non-Negotiable

The argument can be formulated thus:

The Logical Framework:

1. Scripture establishes the pattern: Joseph went from pit to prison to palace. The pit was not the punishment; it was the pathway. The prison was not the end; it was the entrance exam. If you study the life of Joseph, you will discover something the prosperity preachers forget: between the dream and the destiny lay a decade of darkness. Between the coat of many colors and the throne of Egypt lay slavery, false accusation, and forgotten promises.

2. The New Testament affirms the principle: Paul writes in Romans 5:3-5 that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. Notice the chain. There is no shortcut. You cannot harvest hope without planting perseverance. You cannot grow character without enduring suffering. The push is not optional; it is pedagogical.

3. Jesus Himself modeled the mandate: Hebrews 5:8 says something astonishing: "He learned obedience by the things which He suffered." The Son of God—co-equal, co-eternal, the Second Person of the Trinity—nevertheless learned obedience through suffering. If the Master required the push, why would the servant expect to bypass it?

Addressing a Common Objection:

A reader might say: "But Pastor, isn't God loving? Why would a good Father allow His children to suffer? Why the push? Why the pain?"

This is a fair question—and one that deserves a rigorous answer.

First, we must distinguish between punitive suffering (consequences for sin) and pedagogical suffering (training for maturity). The believer in Christ has been delivered from the former. "There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus" (Romans 8:1). But the latter? That is the gymnasium of the soul.

Second, we must recognize that love without challenge is not love but enablement. A father who never allows his child to struggle is a father who has abandoned his child to weakness. The most loving thing God can do for you is to allow you to encounter resistance that builds your spiritual musculature.

Third, the evidence of Scripture and history is overwhelming: every revival, every reformation, every significant movement of God has been preceded by a season of intense pressure. The Welsh Revival of 1904-1905 was born from the midnight prayers of a handful of desperate believers. The Azusa Street Revival emerged from the ashes of racial rejection and financial ruin. The great awakenings of history were not preceded by comfort but by contraction.

Therefore, reason itself, illuminated by Scripture and confirmed in our deepest longings, compels us to acknowledge that the push is not God's abandonment but God's apprenticeship.

🌍 Cultural Relevance: Where the Push Meets the Pavement

Let me bring this home.

To the graduate: You have sent 487 applications. You have rewritten your CV seventeen times. You have watched your classmates post celebration photos while you sit in your childhood bedroom, wondering if your degree was worth the paper it's printed on. I hear you. I see you. And I say to you: your job is not the promise. Your purpose is the promise. The same God who opened doors for Joseph in Egypt can open doors for you in Midrand. But Joseph had to push. He had to interpret dreams in a dungeon before he could administer a kingdom from a palace. Your push is not pointless; it is preparation.

To the small business owner: You have survived load-shedding. You have survived the COVID-19 lockdowns. You have survived the July 2021 unrest that looted your neighbor's shop and left your supply chain in shambles. And now the IMF is downgrading global growth and fuel prices are surging and your margins are thinner than a Soweto pavement. But listen to me: every business that has ever scaled began in a season of scarcity. Amazon started in a garage. Apple started in a bedroom. Your breakthrough is not ahead of you; it is inside you, waiting to be pushed out.

To the church leader: You are watching your congregation age. You are watching the youth drift toward TikTok prophets and Instagram sangomas. You are watching the moral fabric of the nation unravel while politicians play musical chairs with the nation's future. And you are tired. I understand. But remember Elijah on Mount Carmel. He didn't just pray; he built an altar. He didn't just believe; he drenched the sacrifice—four barrels of water, three times over. The push looks like foolishness until the fire falls.

To the pray-er: You have been interceding for your marriage, your children, your community. Month after month, no visible change. The enemy whispers that your prayers are hitting the ceiling and bouncing back. But I remind you of the woman with the issue of blood. She pushed through the crowd. She pushed past the ceremonial uncleanness. She pushed despite twelve years of disappointment. And her push produced her praise. "Daughter," Jesus said, "your faith has made you well."

The push is not the absence of God's presence. The push is the evidence of it.

🔥 Practical Application: How to Push When You Have Nothing Left

The question is not whether to push. The question is how.

First: Push praise from the pit. When you feel like giving up, open your mouth and give thanks. Not for the circumstance—but in the circumstance. Paul and Silas didn't sing because the prison was comfortable; they sang because the presence was manifest. Worship is not the result of deliverance; worship is the vehicle of it.

Second: Push past the pain threshold. There is a moment in every labor when the mother says, "I cannot do this." That moment is not the end; it is the transition. It is the moment before the crowning. When the enemy tells you that you are finished, that is your signal that you are almost there.

Third: Push with the community. No woman gives birth alone. The midwife is present. The nurses are present. The support system is present. In the same way, you cannot push through your season in isolation. Find your tribe. Join a small group. Attend a prayer meeting. Let the body of Christ bear witness to your birth.

Fourth: Push according to the pattern. Not all pushing is productive. There is a difference between pushing in faith and pushing in fear. Fear pushes in circles; faith pushes through walls. Ensure that your push is anchored in Scripture, confirmed by the Spirit, and submitted to wise counsel.

📜 Scriptural Supremacy: The Final Word

Let the Bible have the final word:

"Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning." (Psalm 30:5)

"For His anger is but for a moment, His favor is for a lifetime." (Psalm 30:5)

"I have told you these things, so that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world." (John 16:33)

Do you see it? The same chapter that contains the labor metaphor contains the victory declaration. Jesus did not promise the absence of tribulation; He promised the presence of peace in the tribulation.

And here is the glorious paradox: the push itself produces the praise. The mother does not forget the pain because the pain was insignificant; she forgets it because the person is significant. When you hold your promise—your healed marriage, your delivered child, your restored finances, your saved nation—the pain of the push will fade in the light of the praise.

🎤 The Altar Call: A Decisive Decision

I am not a wealthy individual. I am just a concerned Black man about my People. But I know this: the God who delivered Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego from the furnace is the same God who can deliver South Africa from its furnace. The God who opened the Red Sea for Moses is the same God who can open doors for our graduates. The God who raised Jesus Christ from the dead on the third day is the same God who can raise our nation from the dead.

But we must push.

The enemy thought your exhaustion was surrender. It is your launchpad.

Shout, "I receive it!" while your back is against the wall.

The crown is crowning.

🙏 Prayer

Jesus, Son of the Living God, Lion of the Tribe of Judah, Lamb that was slain—give me grit to give glory.

I push past pain to possess my promise.

I push past disappointment to grasp my destiny.

I push past the whispers of the enemy to lay hold of the inheritance You purchased with Your blood.

Father, I pray for the graduate who is reading this. Breathe on their applications. Open doors that no man can shut. Turn their waiting into worship and their worship into witness.

Lord, I pray for the business owner who is reading this. Multiply their seed. Stretch their supply. Let them look back on this season and say, "Surely the Lord has done great things for us."

Father, I pray for the marriage that is reading this. Push back the spirit of divorce. Push out the spirit of strife. Push forth the spirit of unity, love, and covenant-keeping.

Lord, I pray for South Africa—this beautiful, broken, bleeding land. Push back corruption. Push out violence. Push forth revival. Let the Jacaranda trees of Pretoria witness a harvest of souls. Let the mines of Johannesburg produce gold for the Kingdom. Let the townships of Soweto and Soshanguve and Khayelitsha become cities of praise.

Holy Spirit, comfort us in Christ.

Holy Spirit, convict us of truth and error.

Holy Spirit, confirm us in the rational foundations of our faith.

And when the push is over and the praise has begun, let us stand before the Throne and sing the song of the redeemed:

"Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and riches and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and blessing!"

Amen and Amen.

By Harold Mawela

Akasia, Pretoria  2026


https://open.spotify.com/episode/57hebFv2Hizkuyyc3t9WxR?si=H_lYqc5ySqKPlJR87frZPg


https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-push-before-the-praise/id1506692775?i=1000763206550&l=vi


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

**Cultivating Patience**

 ## The Divine Delay: When God Hits Pause on Your Breakthrough (From My Akasia Veranda) Brothers, sisters, let me tell you, this Highveld sun beating down on my veranda in Akasia isn’t just baking the pavement. It’s baking my *impatience*. You know the feeling? You’ve prayed, you’ve declared, you’ve stomped the devil’s head (in the spirit, naturally!), yet that breakthrough? It feels like waiting for a Gautrain on a public holiday schedule – promised, but mysteriously absent. Psalm 27:14 shouts: *"Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage!"* But waiting? In *this* economy? With Eskom plunging us into darkness and the price of a loaf of bread climbing faster than Table Mountain? It feels less like divine strategy and more like celestial sabotage. I get it. Just last week, stuck in the eternal queue at the Spar parking lot (seems half of Tshwane had the same pap-and-chops craving), watching my dashboard clock tick towards yet another loadshedding slot, my ow...

**Beware the Bloodless Gospel**

 ## The Forge of Faith: Escaping the Bloodless Gospel’s Embrace **Akasia, Pretoria — July 2025**   The winter air bites sharp as a *mamba*’s tooth here in Akasia. I sip rooibos tea on my porch, watching the *veld* shimmer gold under a brittle sun. On my phone, headlines scream: *“59 White South Africans Granted US Refugee Status!”* . Elsewhere, a viral clip shows a prophet in sequinned robes demanding a congregant’s salary “for angelic investment.” My chest tightens. *This*, friends, is the fruit of a **bloodless gospel**—a faith anaemic, diluted, divorced from the Cross’s terrible furnace. It whispers, *“Just believe,”* ignoring Christ’s roar: *“If anyone would come after Me, let him deny himself, take up his cross daily, and follow Me!”* (Luke 9:23).   ### I. The Lukewarm Swamp: Where Truth Drowns   *“So, because you are lukewarm... I will spit you out of My mouth.”* (Revelation 3:16).   **Picture this:** Laodicea’s aqueducts, stagnant with...

**Your Pain Prepares Your Platform**

 ## From Ashes to Anointing: How God Forges Platforms in the Fires of Our Pain The relentless Highveld sun beat down on the N1 highway as I white-knuckled the steering wheel, crawling past the Hammanskraal junction. Brake lights shimmered like a demonic necklace ahead—another crash? Load-shedding-induced traffic chaos? Or just the eternal Tshwane roadworks? My knuckles tightened. I’d left Akasia at dawn for a crucial ministry meeting in Midrand, yet here I sat, imprisoned in steel and frustration. An SMS buzzed: *"Stage 6 until midnight. Venue has no generator. Reschedule?"* My spirit sank. The platform I’d prepared for collapsed before I’d even spoken a word. In that sweltering metal coffin, 2 Corinthians 4:17 thundered in my spirit: *"For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all"* . Light? Momentary? This felt like lead and eternity. Yet God whispered: *"This gridlock is your anvil, Harold. Your pain i...